Wednesday, August 13, 2014

I was listening to the radio this morning, Asahi Broadcasts Morning Partner (おはようパートナー). (My wife chooses the station and program, I just listen while doing the morning chores.)

Keimoto-san's
team played The Beach Boys' "The Girls on the Beach". I was hanging out
the laundry. And I heard the lines, "... are all within reach, if you
know what to do. ... and one waits there for you."

And
I think about the shift in attitudes, from when it was a boy's right,
as it were, to make a play for a girl, to now, when it seems it's
anyone's right to make a play for anyone.

What is this business about making a play for, well, anything? Or anyone? Why does the entertainment industry seem to be so fascinated with making control a commodity?

What could Brian Wilson and company have been thinking, when they penned lyrics that seemed to suggest it was a boy's right to have a girl? What were they selling? And why would a self-respecting woman listen to such lyrics willingly?

I had to dig deep in my memory. Read up a little on Wikipedia about the history of The Beach Boys and about their father and such. Remembered what it was like listening to their tunes on the radio. And about taking my stereo to church to play music for the dances.

Dug out memories of when it seemed like etiquette lessons were primarily about teaching me to assert control. Politely, of course. Memories of wondering whether I could really do such a thing as ask a woman to become, essentially, chattel, for a few minutes for a dance, for a few hours for a date, or especially for a lifetime.

I didn't want to be in control of everything in a relationship. That was too much work, and I was having a hard enough time figuring out how to be in control of myself.

I wasn't interested in structured relationships or activities, too young to see the structure as a framework within which to move, instead of as a set of rules defining everything that had to be done.

And too young to understand that learning how to set structure aside, and when, was the next step after learning etiquette.

Somehow, I learned how to ask for a dance, and then I learned how to ask for a date. Almost. Still not good at asking people to schedule me a piece of their time.

I figured out that the best way to succeed at asking for a dance was to put the question of whether I could get a kiss or not out of my mind. I wanted to dance, and many of the girls at the dances wanted to dance. Neither they nor I really wanted to do anything more, so there was no real need to fuss with the social pressure, ego competition, really, over kissing and making out.

Focus on the dancing and you can get a dance.

Most of the girls I danced with didn't really know what to do on the dance floor, so I usually had to lead. And they liked letting me lead them on the dance floor for a bit. After a few of the more adventurous girls saw that I wasn't going to ask them to go off and engage in ego stroking sessions, more of the girls were willing to dance with me.

Some of the most popular girls seemed a bit disappointed that I didn't want to do the mutual ego-stroking thing. Part of me said, "Wait a minute, what chance did I just miss?" and part said, "That's okay." I wasn't ready for it.

Never really did learn the etiquette, the small-talk, the rules that keep the mutual ego stroking "safe".

When I say safe, I'm not just taking about keeping things from heading towards physical/sexual exploration, but also about keeping the conversation topic away from traps where people hurt each other and themselves. The mind games.

I've sometimes noted that marriage is the archetype of all relationships. When you learn the fair give-and-take of marriage, you can extend that understanding to less intimate associations.

If I do a little meta-substitution with the lyrics, substituting "partner" for "girl", and "world" for "beach", and think beyond the adolescent focus on control for the "within reach" part, the lyrics are more about encouraging young kids to get out and find people to be friends with, to work, study, and play with.

And I remember the innocence of youth (the ironic, but very real innocence of youth), and I remember that I usually read such better meanings in the lyrics back then. I was a kid. I knew better.

Sometimes I'd like a little quiet in the morning, but it has been good for my Japanese.
偶には静かな朝を過ごしたいのですが、ボクの日本語力が道上さんに助かるでしょう。

The last couple of weeks, Dojo-san has been running a corner called 「道上さんとデート」("Dojo-san to Deto", or "A Date with Dojo-san").
最近の２週間ぐらい、道上さんは「道上さんとデート」と言うコーナーを行っています。

Some listeners wrote in to say that Pharrell Williams singing the refrain on Daft Punk's "Lose Your Soul to Dance" sounded to them like "Dojo-san to Deto".
リスナーの何人かのメールに、ファレルウィリアムズが歌うダフトパンクの "Lose Yourself to Dance" （「ルーズ・ユアセルフ・トゥ・ダンス」）のリフレインが、「道上さんとデート」に聞こえることを知らせてくれたのです。

And that turned into this corner, where Dojo-san meets up with listeners and their families at places like the Osaka Aquarium, and then talks about it on the radio.
その話からリスナーと家族が大阪海遊館のようなところで道上さんと会う機会ができたようです。後に道上さんがラジオ番組のコーナーにその様子を紹介します。

Neither my wife nor I waswere listening when they first explained this, but Dojo-san was kind enough to blog about it.
この話が出たところ、二人ともあまり聞いてなかったのですが、道上さんはブログに載せてくれました。

So, how does "Lose yourself to dance." sound like "Doujou-san to deeto."?
なら、「ルーズ・ユアセルフ・トゥ・ダンス」はどうして「どうじょうさんとデート」に聞こえるでしょう?

The "l" of the "loo" sound in "lose" is a little harder than the soft "d" of the Japanese mora "ru". Moreover, the "l" consonant colors a long "u" vowel towards the long "o" sound. That's where the Japanese ear hears the lengthened "do" mora.
"l" の影響で「ウ」が「オ」に近くなって、「ル」がかたくなって、「ド」に移ると思います。

The final voiced "s" of "lose" combines with the initial "yo" of "your" to produce "zyo" (which happens to be an alternate Latinization of "jo"), and the final "r" disappears. Thus the "jo".
濁った "s" が "yo" にくっ付いて、 "zyo" が発生したら、尾にくる "r"が消えて「ジョ」の「オ」が延びる。

How "se" could sound like "sa", you'll have to ask the French. They know.
「セ」が「サ」になるのは？まあ、フランス人に聞いて。わかると思います。

Final "l"s often sound to Japanese ears like the Japanese nasal mora. And the "f" sandwiched between the "l" and the "t" disappears, without a vowel to sustain it.
尾にくる "l" の発音は日本人の耳によく「ン」に変わるのがあります。そして「ト」の前の "f" が消えるでしょう。

And that's the pair of mora, "san".
それで「さん」ができたと思います。

"To" sounding like "toe"? There is no native lingual fricative "t" sustained by a long "u" sound in Japanese, so that gets mapped to either the "te" or "to" mora with a trailing "u" which disappears.
外人はちょっと不思議に思うかもしれないが、「トゥ」が「ト」に変わるのが日本人ならわかると思います。

Shifting "da" with short "a" to "da" with long "a"? The short "a" is just a little lower in the front of mouth then the short "e", and the long "a" is a diphthong, the short "e" sliding into the short "i" or long "e" sound. It's close.
どうして「ダ」が「デー」に聞こえるでしょう？ここの "da" は「ア」よりも、「ェア」のような発音です。つまり、短「o」ではなく、短「a」の発音です。あの聞き難い「apple」の「a」です。「エ」から行けば、「エー」まで聞こえるらしい。

Why does the nasal "n" disappear? It gets hidden by the lingual fricative, "s". But how on earth does that "s" turn into a "to". Lingual fricative spoken heard as a lingual stop?

Maybe that disappearing nasal helps. Push the tongue a little hard, and the lingual fricative kind of gets stopped.

But I'll note, in addition, that with certain dialects of Japanese, it can be really hard, sometimes, for the foreign ear to hear the difference between "so" and "to".

日本語の方言の中には、外人の耳に「ソ」と「ト」の違いが聞き取れないのがあります。

ということを以って、「ト」の前の短すぎる「ン」が消えるでしょう。

そして、消えた「ン」の所為、舌が硬く着いて「ソ」の雑音が止められて、余計に「ト」に変わります。

And Daft Punk has presented us with a nice small example of the fun stuff that happens at the boundaries between English and Japanese.
要するに、ダフトパンク等が、英語と日本語の境界線付近に出来上がる面白い発生物の一つの小さい例を提供してくれたのです。